Chapter Text
The first time Noah and Lena meet is over a 'family' dinner. Family in quotes because neither Ian's nor Noah's mother had been invited - for obvious reasons. This means that both boys, their father and Lena are all sat around a table too big for four people, all picking at their food unenthusiastically.
It's long since gone cold but nobody mentions that.
They probably all would've eaten quicker if it weren't for the fact none of them wanted to look too eager to leave. If it had just been the Collins, Noah has no doubt all of them would be squirrelled up in their respective rooms already but since they have a guest, it would be rude.
Noah can't help but wish Ian would hurry up and eat. If Ian were to be the first to socially faux pas, Noah would be forgiven for leaving next.
Ian doesn't do that, instead stabbing at a particularly soggy carrot.
Lena looks like a nice girl, she really does, but Noah knows that being nice doesn't get anyone anywhere with Ian besides crying in bed at night feeling stupid. He would know, he's seen numerous of his brother's flings be dropped like hot rocks only to come to school the next day with swollen, sleepless eyes.
It would be sadder if it weren't such an obvious pattern.
Maybe that's why their father felt the need to arranged a marriage for Ian. The knowledge that if Ian's personality had its way, the young adult would be single forever.
Lena runs a hand through her purple hair and smiles in an awkward, lopsided way that makes Noah cringe in sympathy. "It's so nice that we could all get together, isn't it?" Her words are stilted.
The eldest Collins looks relieved, no doubt used to small talk and basic pleasantries because of his job."Yes, it is. It's so difficult to get my boys together for dinner nowadays with all their extracurriculars and hobbies."
Noah's studying and poor health, and Ian's smoking habit is what their father means. Lena doubtlessly knows it too, Ian reeks of ash even before he has his first cigarette of the day, but she doesn't say anything. Too polite, maybe.
Or maybe she's just uncomfortable.
Lena gives a half-hearted chuckle, waves her fork around slightly (it has a wrinkled mushroom hanging off of the end, a brown top with a lighter underside) before going back to awkwardly picking at her food.
Four, maybe five, more minutes go by before Ian slams both of his hands down onto the table and gets up.
"Ian! Where do you think you're going?" Their father demands, shooting an apologetic look at Lena.
"Out."
"Whatever for?"
"For a smoke. Don't wait up, I haven't decided whether I'll be coming back or not. You can throw my food," and then Ian storms out with all the grace of a raging bull. He slams the door so hard as he leaves that even the well-oiled hinges screech in complaint.
"Lena, I am so sorry about my eldest. Ian is..."
Noah can think of several words to describe Ian. Inconsiderate, rude, impulsive, brash, cruel...
"Difficult," is what Seth Collins comes up with. An understatement but the word still somehow encapsulates everything about Ian: he makes other people's lives difficult.
Lena nods, chokes down a withering mushroom and says, "It's alright."
For a moment, Noah thinks she's going to cry. There's something fragile about her voice that wasn't there before, a wavering to the ends of her words. Yet she doesn't cry and doesn't get up from the table, just sits there picking and nibbling at a plate of food that looks as though it's dying.
Noah pities her. She's a nice person from he's seen which means Ian will destroy her.
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Shockingly enough, dinner goes from downright awkward to actually pleasant after Ian's departure. Lena is no science or business wiz but she has a knack for appearing genuinely interested that makes conversation easy.
When Seth or Noah go on about their latest projects, Lena asks all sorts of questions - about the meaning of the different topical terminology they use, about when and where certain things happened and for general explanations. Both of them are happy to explain and talk her through their respective interests and Noah finds that Lena is just a likeable person.
Seth is the first to leave the table and soon after Lena and Noah are picking up their plates (Noah also picking up Ian's) and heading to the kitchen. They haven't eaten much because almost every part of their dinner is cold and soggy but they can always eat later.
They scrape the excess into the bin and idly chat as they do.
"And he didn't even realise the Bunsen burner was still on! His sleeve went up in flames," Noah gestures wildly to one side with his knife, watching Lena stifle a giggle.
"That's awful!" She cries but her smile gives her own amusement away. "Was the fire put out soon after though?"
"Yeah, our teacher was quick to get the kid's partner to turn off the burner."
"I meant the boy's sleeve!" Lena cackles and Noah goes slightly red.
"That was put out too! The teacher shoved him to the floor and rolled him," Noah walks up to the sink, putting both now empty plates into it.
"Did they have to call an ambulance?" Lena asks.
"They did, although apparently the boy was fine. Those lab coats are sturdy stuff apparently," Noah moves to the side as Lena puts her plate in the sink. "I think they only really called for legal reasons. You know, so they wouldn't get angry parents knocking at their front door."
Lena nods along. "At least he knows to check his burner from now on."
Noah snorts. "I bet he does."
Lena turns to face Noah and inclines her head slightly. "Thank you for having me over and please tell your father the same. I've had a really nice time."
"There's no need to be so formal, we're practically family after all. Or, soon-to-be at least," Noah says as he leans against the counter.
Maybe having by Lena as a sister-in-law won't be so bad.
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It's a couple years later, just after the birth of Iva, that Noah calls Lena over to have a chat at his house. They sit on the doorstep out front, both with their backs to the door. Noah is in an old hoodie and some loose jeans and Lena's in a flowing purple maternity gown, still having the remainders of a baby belly. Iva is sat on Lena's lap in a frilly set of matching pyjama bottoms and a top. She barely has any hair yet.
Noah looks at the little girl sleeping in her mother's lap and asks, "can't trust Ian to take care of her?"
"Can't trust Ian to do anything," Lena retorts.
"Sounds about right," Noah looks up at the sky. It's late enough to have gone black at the top, yet still early enough that the horizon line is a navy blue. "I don't know how he manages to keep you around, you know? The other women he's seen..." Noah trails off and takes a moment to gather his thoughts. "I can see how he's kept those around. Either they're as foul as he is or they don't know their own worth so they let him treat them awfully. But you? Respectfully, why do you stay? My father is dead, your parents are dead, it's not like there's anyone to disappoint anymore."
Lena looks over, a sorrowful look on her face. "Why do you stay? You clearly don't love Parish," she holds up her hand when Noah goes to protest. "I know you cared for her at first but even I can see any good will has long since been smothered. So, why?"
"For the kids," Noah says. "The company falling apart or losing respect of the old geezers I work with would be one thing, I could handle that. But I don't think I'd be able to handle losing a child of mine. Ever," Noah tucks his knees under his chin.
"I think you would win a custody battle," Lena strokes Iva's forehead, watching as the girl's hands tighten their grip on Lena's gown.
"For Abel."
"Pardon?" Lena looks over to see Noah staring at his own hands. No, not his hands, the blue veins running underneath his skin.
"I'd win in a custody battle for Abel," Noah elaborates. Lena gets the feeling she's missing something but a look at Noah's trembling form tells her now is not the time to ask questions.
"I'm staying for Iva," Lena says.
"Now you are," Noah smiles faintly at the baby. "But before that I mean."
"Before that, I had our respective families' judgement to worry about."
They sit there not speaking for a moment, just listening to the three streams of breath and the occasional blow of wind.
"I had my stuff packed, you know?" Lena states unprompted.
"What?" Noah turns to look at her and finds himself speechless at the sight of tears streaming down Lena's face.
"After they all died, the first thing I did was pack my things. I had been planning to leave after the funeral, stay at a friend's maybe, and then get divorced but..." Lena looks down at Iva peacefully sleeping and drooling from one side of her mouth. "Then I was late. And I tested and... and I unpacked all my things because what else could I do?"
Noah gets up onto his knees and pulls Lena in for a hug. He rests one hand on her shoulder and the other behind her neck and listens as the she dissolves into sobbing, realising he was wrong all those years ago.
He hates having Lena as a sister-in-law. It means seeing her cry.